Shush Shush - A Hush Hush Parody
by Patchy Meow
Summary: Shush Shush is a parody of the paranormal romance novel, Hush Hush. The characters are still the same, but names have been changed to protect the innocent; and not so innocent. A Fallen Angel...maybe he should watch where he is going.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer:_

_I being of sound mind (or maybe not), declare I do not own or claim to own any of the characters, plot, bank balances, social security numbers, telephone numbers, shoes, clothing, kitchen sinks, or anything else in this particular fictional word._

_If you don't believe me, go ask Google, they know everything._

_Notice to the Inland Revenue, this story is non profit, sorry_.

**Shush Shush - A Hush Hush parody.  
**  
Part I

**Prologue  
**  
_Loire Valley, France_  
_November 1500 and something._

Chauncey was lying on the banks of the Loire River with a farmer's daughter. Whose daughter, he didn't know; he did not even know her name. She was a girl and was willing. That was enough for him. A storm rolled in and having let his donkey wander in the meadow. He would have to walk back to the chateau. He removed a silver buckle from his shoe and placed it in the girl's hand.

What's this." she cried

"Payment." He replied.

"What kind of girl do you think I am I don't provide services. Ask anyone." The girl looked at him with disgust.

Chauncey shook his head. "It is not for services, it is for your silence. I do not wish anyone to know about my little problem."

The girl grinned. "Oh yes, that little problem, have no fear your secret is safe with me, it is shush shush."

She rose and scurried away, slinging mud on Chauncey's face as she fled across the grass. He wiped his hand across his face and cursed to himself; pulled on his boots and made his way home. Rain poured down upon the countryside surrounding the Chateau de Chaise long. Chauncey trod over the graves and rotting leaves of the cemetery. Even with a dense fog, he had no fear; he could find his way home, even when drunk. This was very often; finding his way home, not being drunk. There was no fog this evening but it was growing dark and the rain was pounding down.

From the corner of his vision Chauncey saw a movement, he turned his head. He saw in front of him what appeared to be the figure of a large angel lying on top of a monument. The figure rose, it was not made of marble, stone or MDF, it was a boy. He was practically naked, unusual for this time of year, unless you wished to have frost bite. He wore ill fitting peasant trousers and they hung low. He jumped down from the monument. The rain ran down his black hair onto his face, which was as dark as a dark looking person.

Chauncey hand grabbed his sword. "Who is it?"

There was silence.

"Do not play with the Duc de Chaise Long, give me your name."

"Duc?" The boy leaned again a tree. "Or is it bastard."

Chauncey was outraged. "Do not curse at me, take that back! My father may have been harsh, and miserable man, but he was still the Duc de Chaise Long. I am now the Duc."

The boy shook his head. "Sorry to inform you but the old Duc was not your father that makes you a bastard."

Chauncey was seething with rage and extended his weapon. "How dare you, who was your father?" He would make this boy pay for his insult. "Who are You?" he demanded.

The boy laughed and pushed his weapon aside. He looked older than Chauncey had first thought.

"Your pants are undone, put your weapon away."

Chauncey looked down and hastily fastened his trousers. "Damn you! I still demand to know who you are."

"One of the Devil's offspring." The boy answered.

Chauncey was overcome by a wave of fear, where was a latrine when you needed one. "You are insane, get the hell out of my way."

Suddenly Chauncey felt himself sway; he had not touched a drop of alcohol today and yet he felt intoxicated. His eyes felt like they were ready to burst and his body hunched before the boy. He gasped for air; it must be something he ate. He thought those mushrooms he ate earlier tasted peculiar.

The boy crouched down to look Chauncey in the eye. "I want something from you and I will not leave until you give it to me."

"Never." Chauncey screamed, "You can have my donkey instead."

He grit his teeth and shook his head. The boy grasped Chauncey around his wrists. "I need your oath, I need you to swear fealty. Bend on one knee and swear it."

Chauncey felt as if he was choking, he fell head first into the mud. He felt weak and nauseous and had a mouth full of muddy water. He tried to spit it out, but it dribbled back down his face. He would not swear the oath, he could not he did not swear, particularly on Sundays. He made a vow to himself he would make this boy pay.

"Lord I am your man." Chauncey hissed.

The boy pulled Chauncey to his feet and asked him to meet him in the cemetery at the start of the Hebrew month of Cheshvan. The two weeks before the new and the full moons. "I will need your service."

"What! Chauncey raged I service no one, I am the Duc de Chaise Long."

"The boy smiled and said "You are a Nephil."

"Who is Neville?" Chauncey asked.

"Nephil not Neville; you belong to a race called Nephilim. Your father was a fallen angel. You are half mortal."

Chauncey's eyes met with the boy's "I am half fallen angel?"

A memory drifted into Chauncey's mind; of passages from the Bible telling of a deviant race, of tall giant like people created by fallen angels mating with mortal women. "Who are you?"

The boy turned and walked away, Chauncey wished to go after him but he could not move. He saw the boy's back, he had two thick scars, they narrowed and formed a V. Strange Chauncey thought, who would brand someone with a "V?" Then it came to him who the boy was; he wasn't Brand X.

"Are you one of the fallen?" He cried out. "Your wings have been stripped, along with the rest of you." Still furious he shouted. "What is this service I am to provide? Do you still need a donkey?"

The boy did not turn back, but Chauncey could hear him laughing.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

Hotwater, Maine

Present day.

I walked into Biology, and the door slammed into my face on the way in. That didn't make my jaw drop, even though it felt like I had broken it. What I saw adhered to the chalkboard made my jaw hit the floor. There was Barbie with Ken, naked and in a very compromising position. Stuart Hudson scurried away from the chalkboard, shaking with fits of laughter. It was obvious he was responsible for Barbie and Ken's missionary position. Scrawled above their heads in pink chalk was:

WELCOME TO HUMAN REPRODUCTION (SEX)

Scribble underneath was the comment; _Leave out the reproduction we just want the sex! _

Stuart Hudson's handiwork no doubt.

Dee Skylark was at my side, she said, "I wish they would allow camera phones in the school. A picture of this in the eZine would be enough evidence for the board of education to axe biology. We could then be doing something more productive."

"Yeah Dee I know your definition of the word productive. Would that have anything to do with one-on-one tutoring from cute older guys?" I replied.

Dee grinned and said, "You know me better than I know myself."

"Dee you have been looking forward to this class all semester."

She paused then fluttered her eyelashes. "Me! What is this class going to teach me, don't I already know enough?"

"Dee? As in dir..?" Dee placed her hand over my mouth to silence me.

"Owww, my face already hurts from the door slamming into it."

" Sorry, but not so loud," she said.

The bell rang and we dashed over to our seats, which were next to each other at our shared table.

Coach McNoughty blew a whistle, hanging from a chain around his neck.

"OK, team seats please. And by the way, if I find anyone messing with my works of art again." He jerked his thumb towards the chalkboard. "I will put the entire class on litter picking duty for the rest of the week. Have you got that?"

The class was silent on the subject.

Coach McNoughty put his hand to his ear and repeated, "Have you got that?"

"Yes Coach," the class answered.

I looked over to Stuart Hudson's desk, his face started to turn scarlet.

Coach treated each lesson like a basketball game. He was a varsity basketball coach, and he made sure everyone knew it! He continued,

"Sex is more than a fifteen minute trip in the backseat of a car."

"More like three minutes," said Dee.

"How would you know?" I whispered, "You have no previous experience."

Before Dee could find a wisecrack answer, Coach scanned along the front row of desks and stopped in front of me.

"Norma, sex is science and what is science?"

"Something you study."

A boy at the back of the class mumbled, "Yeah Stuart has been doing a lot of 'studying' lately."

Someone else laughed aloud. Coach ignored them and continued to question me.

"Can you tell me what else? And no text book answers I want it in your own words."

I hesitated for a moment unsure of what to say. "Science is an investigation?"

Coach nodded his head, "Yes science is an investigation and requires us to be spies. Being a spy takes a lot of practice."

"Stuart knows all about that," another comment from the back of the classroom.

Coach replied with, "The next comedian with a smart remark will be punished with a week of detention." He frowned and then looked down at me again.

"Norma you and Dee have been sitting together since the beginning of the year. Both of you are on the school eZine."

I nodded in agreement, "That means that you probable know quite a lot about each other?"

I nodded again. Dee elbowed my arm, I knew what she was thinking, he doesn't know the half. Dee and I know everything about each other; we could almost be twin sisters. But not identical twins, she is tall, voluptuous and (out of a bottle) blonde. I am short, skinny, with a flat chest, and I am a red head in denial. I prefer to call myself a brunette.

Dee and I are tied together with an invisible thread and both of us swear we will be friends for life. We could never break up as friends anyhow, we know far too many dirty little secrets about each other.

Coach looked around the class room and announced, "You all picked your seats for a reason, which also means you know quite a lot about the person you are sitting next too."

I didn't like were this was leading. He continued, "The best spies find familiarity dulls their instincts. From today, there will be a few changes around here.

A chorus of, "What!" and other unrepeatable words filled the room. It was April, near to the end of the school year, why make changes now.

Coach shouted above the protests, "If you want to fail this class you are quite welcome to join me and repeat it next year."

Dee muttered a string of profanities and gave Coach her infamous 'not amused' scowl. She could make a plant wilt with that look. However, this did not deter Coach McNoughty. He placed the whistle to his lips and blew hard, nearly deafening Dee and me; he was still standing in front our desk.

Whatever Coach had in mind, it was not going to be good, and we were soon going to find out.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

Coach looked around the room with a smirk on his face, he rubbed his hands again and shouted," Listen up class I want everyone to write their names on a piece of paper, fold it and give it to me. I will then place it inside the baseball cap on my desk."

Coach looked around the room with a smirk on his face. I still didn't get what he was up to, but I obeyed all the same. Dee face still had that 'wilt a plant' look, and she sat at the desk with her arms crossed in defiance.

"Miss Skylark, please write your name down and give it to me as requested."

"Better do as he as he says Dee, you don't want to end up in one of his detentions again." I whispered.

Dee shrugged her shoulders, and did as she was asked. After coach turned his back towards her a smile spread upon her face.

"What did you do Dee?" I asked

"You will see." she replied

Coach lifted the baseball cap from his desk and revealed his plan, "One by one I want you to come up and draw a name from the cap. If you pick your own name, place it back and take another. Starting from the left back of the class come up one at a time, take a name then return to your seat."

One by one, the class took a name from the baseball cap and returned to their seats. Some looked horrified some looked smug at the names they chose.

Stuart Hudson started to laugh when he saw the name written on his piece of paper. However, coach did not share his good humour. He snatched the paper from Stuarts hand, grimaced, looked at it, and spoke.

"Will _Sex Goddess_, please reveal themselves or the whole class gets detention for the next two weeks."

A giggle erupted from the class.

Couch stared at us. "Let me rephrase, will the person who wrote Sex Goddess as their name please make yourself known."

Dee cleared her throat and raised her hand. A loud laugh erupted once again.

"Miss Skylark, clearly you have a sense of humour, but let us see if you still have one after two weeks of detention. Your classmates should thank you for letting them off the hook. You may now take your seat next to Stuart Hudson."

Coached smiled to himself and announced, "Yes dear students, the name you pick from the cap will be the person you sit next to for the rest of the semester."

Dee stood up with a look of resonation on her face and reluctantly took her place beside Stuart Hudson. He was the only person in our class that sat alone, he was distracting for most of the students and had been caught cheating during tests. Thus the reason he was seated alone. Dee turned to him smiled and said sweetly,

"You lay one finger on me and you will loose your hand."

Stuart replied, "Thank goodness it's only my hand."

Coach blew on his whistle once more and shouted,

"OK, the entertainment is over, please continue to pick names."

It was my turn next. I rose from my seat and walked toward the desk, tripping as I went and nearly falling head first onto the desk. I heard a loud deep laugh, one I that did not recalled hearing before. I looked up and saw the new transfer boy laughing, finding my humiliation a great source of amusement. I didn't know his name only that he sat at the back of the class and never spoke to anyone. He usually had a baseball hat half hiding his face. Coach didn't seem to bother much with him. The boy stopped laughing when he saw me staring at him, he held my gaze. I noticed he had one dark brown eye and one grey one. Strange I had not noticed that about him, but then again I had not paid much attention to him before now. His mouth slightly lifted to one side. Why was he smirking at me?

I put my hand inside the baseball cap and withdrew a piece of paper. I recognised the cap that coach was using, it was the one belonging to the transfer boy. I unfolded the paper, the name Patchy stared back at me. It could only be one person, the transfer boy! I looked to see if coach was looking at me. He was, trembling slightly I lied, "It's my name on the paper."

I refolded the paper, took another and opened it. I could not believe what I was seeing, again the name Patchy scrawled upon the paper. I looked up at Coach, before I could say anything he glared at me and said, "Miss Day, go sit down now please,"

I turned around and on returning to my seat I looked at the transfer boy Patchy, he was still smirking. I was not happy; he gave me the creeps to be honest. He must have put his name in twice. Now I was stuck with him until the end of semester. I looked over to Dee she gave a small wave and sighed.

When the last person had drawn a name, coach told one half of the class to move and the other, my side, to stay put. Patchy threw his text book onto the desk and placed himself in the seat beside me.

I looked at him and smiled, "Hello, I am Norma."

His eyes pierced mine and he gave me a vague smile, or was it another smirk. He did not speak. Briefly, a sense of fear washed over me. I had a feeling this boy was trouble, trouble with a capital T. I distracted myself by starring at the chalkboard. Barbie and Ken looked back at me. They looked liked they were smirking at me too.

Coach said, "Now we are settled into our new seats we can begin. Human reproduction is not a subject for the immature. It is a science and as we said before science is an investigation. I want you to spend the rest of this lesson finding out as much as you can about the person sat beside you. I will of course be checking to make sure you are not writing a work of fiction, so you have been warned."

I sat still, not wanting to make the first move. A smell of baby powder and cigarettes wafting through my nostrils. What a weird combination. I stared at the wall watching the minutes on the clock tick by. My pen and paper were sat on the desk in front of me. I suddenly became aware of Patchy scribbling on his paper. What was he writing about me? He barely knew me and me him. I turned and took a sideways glance at him. He had already written a few paragraphs.

"What are you writing, because you cannot be possibly know anything about me?"

He replied, "Oh you do actually speak then."

He continued to write, I craned my neck to see what he was writing. He had large hands so I could not see much. I also noticed he was wearing, what looked like black nail polish on his thumbnail.

"Do you like manicures," I asked

"What?" was his reply

"You are wearing black nail polish, on your thumb."

I looked up from his work and snorted, "It's bruising under my thumb, not nail polish."

"Oh, sorry," was all I could mutter. My face burned with embarrassment.

He reached over and picked up my empty paper.

"I see you have been busy then." He laughed

I was embarrassed and mad at him but I would not let him make me fail this assignment. I turned to him and asked, "Your full name?"


End file.
